Author's Note: If this chapter seems a little incomplete, well, that's because it is. As I was writing it I realized it was getting way longer than any chapter I'd written before, so I decided to cut it in half to keep things relatively consistent and because it's been a while since I updated. I'll try to get the second half up soon, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoy! -Bondari
Chapter 6—The Legend Takes a Stand, Disastrously
"No, no, no! Giant Brain Thing cannot have Grovel's mirror! Mirror belongs to Grovel, yes, yes, yes; Grovel found it, Grovel keeps it!"
Nathyrra placed her helmeted head in her hand and groaned. Though Grovel was speaking with a remarkable amount of assertiveness in his voice, his face was a portrait of terror. Since the Elder Brain didn't have eyes, maybe it couldn't perceive how truly frightened the poor goblin was. That was Nathyrra's hope, but she wasn't planning on it being true.
She felt something brush lightly against her leg, and she looked down at her side to see Deekin writing furiously with his quill. She smiled a little, marveling at the kobold's ability to remain calm and positive in the face of such an unusual and dangerous situation. He was certainly holding up better than her other companions.
Valen was sulking in the corner, his hand on the hilt of Devil's Bane. Though he had reluctantly agreed to play the part of a slave for the sake of their deception, he seemed intent on being the most malcontent, disagreeable slave who ever lived. When Nathyrra had asked him to order some food for her at the illithid tavern, he had stubbornly refused, claiming he was concerned about his mistress's figure growing too large for her armor. She smacked him for that remark, and she had to admit it was rather satisfying to watch him shuffle off to serve her. Even though she was still feeling guilty about forcing Valen into pretend slavery, she was not about to put up with snide comments about her appearance. Valen had responded by falling into a morose silence, which truthfully wasn't that much different than his normal grumpy silence, so Nathyrra could live with that.
She was much more concerned about Tree Branch's changed behavior. The gnome had been satisfied at being correct about there being something unnatural about that blasted waterfall, and she had rather indifferently agreed to participate in their slave ruse. It seems, however, that the druid had never seen a mind flayer before, and when faced with their tentacle faces and their habit of speaking directly into people's minds, her nature-loving heart was paralyzed with horror. Nathyrra was sure that if the gnome had not promised to be quiet and obey her commands that she would have run around the city bashing every illithid in sight with her club. Being forced into docility, Tree Branch could only stare, openly and wide-eyed, at each abomination she passed. Now, faced with a giant brain with many tentacles floating in a liquid substance which was almost guaranteed to be unnatural, the druid had gone into a state of shock. Every once in a while, she would raise her arm from where she was frozen in place and utter some indescribable screeching sound, but the rest of the time she just stood there shaking, bound by her promise not to act without Nathyrra's permission, but unsure of how she would act if given the choice.
And then there was Grovel. The goblin had actually been the best fake slave out of all of them, probably because he was so used to cowering and following orders, but his slowly growing self-confidence chose an unfortunate moment to make a reappearance. Nathyrra had argued for a long time with the illithid guard to let her have an audience with the Elder Brain, and she had been forced to bribe the guard with her most valuable ring in order to be allowed to keep her Helm of Shielding on. It appeared, however, that all of her efforts would be in vain. The Elder Brain had agreed rather readily to abandon the Valsharess if it was well compensated. Unfortunately, the compensation it requested was the Mirror of All-Seeing that they had recovered from Shaori's Fell, and if Grovel had not been willing to give the powerful artifact to the kind, benevolent Seer, there was no way that he was going to give it to the creepy "Giant Brain Thing". To be fair, Nathyrra was not convinced that giving the mirror to a race of mind-reading slavers was a smart idea, but she would have at least preferred to take the offer back to the Seer and discuss it away from eavesdropping tentacles. But Grovel was not about to give her that opportunity. The mirror was his and his alone, and he had made it clear that there was nothing to discuss.
"Grovel's mirror, Grovel's mirror, you can't have it, no, no, no!" the goblin screamed, apparently in response to something the Elder Brain had thought at him. He was holding the mirror in his weak little hands, brazenly taunting his adversary in a manner Nathyrra feared was not going to help matters. Observing the way its tentacles were quivering in the pool of disgusting goop, Nathyrra judged that the Elder Brain was getting angry, and before she could act one of the tentacles suddenly snapped out and grabbed one handle of the mirror, lifting it and Grovel off the ground.
"Grovel!" Nathyrra cried, rushing to grab one of the goblin's feet.
"Let go of the mirror, you stupid goblin," yelled Valen as he caught one of the goblin's elbows.
"Hey, Stupid Goblin be Deekin's nickname for him, not yours, Goatman!" Deekin snapped, not looking up from his book.
"Blargh!" uttered Tree Branch, pointing uselessly at the brain.
"Mirror is Grovel's, yes, yes, yes!" Grovel stubbornly insisted. The Elder Brain suddenly yanked backwards, and Nathyrra and Valen lost their grips on the goblin. "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed as the Elder Brain shook him violently in the air, but against all odds, he hung on to his prized possession.
"Valen, grab him!" Nathyrra yelled as she prepared to shoot a magic missile at the tentacle.
"Is that an order, Mistress?" Valen snapped angrily.
"Oh, will you just let it go!" the drow snapped back, and she poked him in the back with her rapier. Valen turned to her with a growl, and for a moment she feared that he would come after her instead, but he leaped up and grabbed Grovel around the waist. "Let go, goblin!" he roared.
"No, no, no!" Grovel yelped back.
Nathyrra let her spell loose, and her vision was momentarily obscured by the visual discharge of the magic. Enveloped by the indigo haze, she heard a thud, a cry of despair, and something that sounded disturbingly like shattering glass. Nathyrra's heart leapt into her throat as an inexplicable force slammed her head into the wall behind her, and she knew no more.
Someone was stepping on her foot. Repeatedly.
Nathyrra sat up and tried to rub her eyes, but she found that this was a very difficult task to accomplish with a helmet on. As the mystery person stepped on her foot once again, she ripped off the Helm of Shielding and was about to unleash a nasty stream of foul drow language, but the sight that met her bleary eyes caused her mouth to hang open, unable to utter a sound.
The mind flayers were dancing.
With her protective helm removed, Nathyrra's brain was hit with a sonic cacophony the likes of which she had never heard before. A charming waltz bounced around her mind as the thoughts of the twenty or thirty illithid in the room converged inside her skull. The creatures moved gracefully around her as they inquired about their partner's plans for the evening or commented lightly upon the weather, linking their tentacles while their arms swayed at their sides. Another one stepped on her foot as she realized she was lying in their path. Using the wall behind her to pull herself up, she looked to the back of the room, where she saw the strangest sight of all. The Elder Brain, trapped as it was in its puddle of liquid grossness, was conducting this imaginary orchestra with its many tentacles. Nathyrra felt such happiness and joy radiating from the giant brain that she couldn't help smiling, staring at the monstrous creature in wonder.
Suddenly a tentacle was thrust into her view. "Would you like to dance?" thought the illithid it was attached to.
"Oh!" Nathyrra replied, quite surprised at this unusual request. "Umm, yes, I would be happy to." She took the offered appendage as gracefully as she could manage and found herself swept up in the mind flayer waltz.
"It is not often that one of the drow joins our dance," thought the illithid conversationally. "Did you come to Zorvak'Mur alone, my lady?"
"Alone? Umm… am I alone… No!" Nathyrra cried sharply. "I didn't come here alone! I came here with friends, four friends: a tiefling, a gnome, a kobold, and a goblin. Have you seen them?" She frantically began scanning the room for any sign of her companions, and she tripped on a crack in the floor.
"Calm yourself, my lady," her illithid partner mentally chided. "I have not seen any creatures such as you describe down here in the Elder Brain Dance Hall, but I'm sure they are fine. We in Zorvak'Mur strive to provide all our guests with the greatest hospitality."
"Hospitality?" asked Nathyrra in shock, her mind quickly trying to piece together the events that had transpired before she woke up. "You're slavers! You capture members of other races and turn them into your thralls!"
The mind flayer laughed inside her brain. "You must be mistaken, my lady. All are equals in Zorvak'Mur, and all races are welcome."
The illithid twirled her around as Nathyrra tried to remember. She could see the five of them down in this room, negotiating with the Elder Brain. Grovel was angry about something, and he was waving a shiny object in his hands…
The Mirror of All-Seeing.
The last thing she remembered hearing was the sound of glass shattering.
Oh, hells no.
The waltz was ending. The illithid pulled apart from her and bowed. "Thank you, my lady. It is always a pleasure to dance with a member of one of the tentacle-less races."
Nathyrra curtsied, thinking fast. "Wait, good sir illithid!" The illithid stood before her, waiting. "Umm, I came here looking for something. You see, one of my companions, the goblin, broke a mirror down here, and he didn't manage to pick up all of the pieces. Do you happen to know if anyone has found a shard of glass on the, umm, dance floor?"
The illithid scratched his head with a tentacle. "Hmm. I haven't seen one myself, but the Elder Brain is in charge of the lost and found. Come this way, please." He led her to the Elder Brain's pool. Nathyrra waited impatiently as he stared at the large brain for a moment. Then, one of the brain's tentacles reached into its resting pool and pulled out a sopping wet mirror shard. Nathyrra was grateful she was wearing gloves as she took it from the creature with a smile and a thank you. Her mind was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of sheer pleasure from the Elder Brain at being so helpful, and then the creature began its next lilting tune.
Nathyrra said farewell to her dance partner, picked up her helmet, and tucked the mirror shard away. Recalling her experience in Shaori's Fell, there should be four shards left, she reasoned. And four guesses who has them. Now where could they be…?
Nathyrra walked warily through the mind flayers gathered in the marketplace. They seemed quite as cheerful and pleasant as the ones she had encountered in the Elder Brain's chamber, but she had put her Helm of Shielding back on as a precaution. Each illithid inclined its head slightly as she passed it, and she found herself compelled to return the polite gesture. Her neck was starting to ache from the repeated bobbing, and she forced herself to take the risk and remove her helmet once again. She massaged the back of her neck as she looked around, her vision now unimpeded by the narrow eye slit of her helm. Her hearing improved as well, and her ears were suddenly assaulted by a loud, exuberant voice shouting from the north east: "Fifty gold to the ugly little duergar! Oh, don't give me that look, you know it's true! Do I hear seventy-five? Seventy-five gold for this fine specimen!"
As she hurried over to what she had previously noticed was a slave auction block, Nathyrra concentrated on the voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but there was something slightly off about the excitement and enthusiasm the auctioneer conveyed. And what was being auctioned anyway? The illithid in the dance hall had said they no longer practiced slavery here. Unless he had been lying and this was all an elaborate hoax occurring only in her mind…
That troubling thought was put to rest as soon as Nathyrra drew close enough to see what was going on. Everything made perfect sense, in the sense that nothing made sense at all. A large crowd of humans, elves, and one truly ugly duergar were assembled around the auction block, bidding on the illithid twirling and posing on the stage. Looking closely, Nathyrra could see a shiny pink bow tied around one of its tentacles, and she thought she could detect a hint of makeup around its eyes. None of these mystifying sights, however, could divert her attention from the tiny auctioneer with the ghastly smile.
"Tree Branch!" Nathyrra cried, more in shock at seeing the gnome in such a state than actually expecting a response. Indeed, Nathyrra fancied she was watching a puppet that looked like Tree Branch rather than the druid herself. It was simply unthinkable that the reserved, taciturn woman she had been travelling with would be hopping about on a stage, waving her arms madly and coaxing her audience into handing over their gold. And yet, there she was, beaming with glee as an elf raised his arm and said, "I'll pay seventy-five."
"Splendid, splendid! Seventy-five gold to the muscular elf!" Tree Branch cheered with a wink that was clearly an attempt at flirtation that failed miserably. Apparently some things even the Mirror of All-Seeing was powerless to change. "Do I hear one hundred? How about you, fair drow lady? Care to place a bid on this lovely illithid? Ooo, that rhymes! Hee, hee, hee!" Tree Branch jumped and clapped her hands. The illithid beside her curtsied gracefully. Nathyrra pulled out a chunk of her hair. "Oww!" she yelped and squinted her eyes closed in pain, but when she opened them again, the scene in front of her was just as ridiculous as before. "I don't believe this," she muttered to herself.
"I know what ya mean, lassie," said the ugly duergar who had bid fifty gold. "A mind flayer like that is worth at least one twenty-five! I would've thought the bidding would be much higher by now."
"What, exactly, are you bidding on her for?" Nathyrra asked, determined to try to make some sense out of all of this. "What use would an illithid be as a slave?"
"A slave? Ha ha, you're a strange lass, ya are!" the duergar laughed. "This here's a date auction. We're bidding on the chance to spend the evening with one of these charming creatures!"
Nathyrra felt her jaw drop open as Tree Branch yelled to the crowd, "Come now, my friends, you're not going to let this beauty slip through your fingers, are you? One hundred gold and she's yours for the night! You could go dancing down at the Elder Brain's, or you could even catch a fight down at the pits! Love is in the air, ladies and gentlemen! Which of you will be bold enough to seize the day?"
"Oh, sod it, you only live once, right?" said the duergar as he raised his hand. "One hundred for me, ya hideous gnome!"
Tree Branch smiled as though this were the greatest compliment in the world. "The repulsive duergar bids again! One hundred gold! Anyone willing to top that?" When it became clear that no one was, Tree Branch proclaimed the auction over, and the duergar walked off arm-in-arm with his illithid prize.
Seizing her moment, Nathyrra rushed up to the druid's side. "Tree Branch, I'm so glad I found you! What on earth are you doing here?"
"Tree branch? What tree branch? I don't see any tree branch," said the gnome. "Are you feeling all right in the head, my lady?"
"Yes, Tree Branch, I'm fine. I'm just calling you by your name."
The druid's face twitched in a manner similar to the way the avariel in Shaori's Fell would twitch when faced with something that conjured up memories of their actual identities. The spasm quickly passed and was replaced by a horrified frown. "That's not my name!" Tree Branch spat in disgust. "What a stupid name that would be! Something only a crazy tree-hugger would think up, I'm sure. No way in all the hells that's my name!"
Nathyrra sighed. This was not starting off well, and she was quite certain it would only get worse. "Well, what is your name, then?" she asked as she crossed her arms.
"My name? Oh, of course, my name…" The gnome scratched her head and furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. "Huh. That's funny. I can't seem to remember it."
"Wonderful. I'm just going to call you Tree Branch, then, if that's alright with you."
"No, it is most certainly not alright with me, you unfairly beautiful drow woman! Stupid, stupid name," the druid muttered to herself. "The dumbest name in all the realms." Nathyrra looked ready to speak again, so the nameless gnome held up her tiny hand. "Stop! If I have no name, I'm not going to let some stranger name me, no matter how pretty she is! No, I'll… I'll name myself! Yes!" Her smile returned as quickly as it had fled, and she clapped her hands in glee. "I will christen myself, and my name will be such that it strikes fear and awe into the hearts of all who hear it!"
Silence fell. Nathyrra tapped her foot impatiently. "And that name would be…?"
"Aha!" cried the gnome. "I have it! The perfect name! The best name in all the realms! From this day forth, I shall be called She Who Summons Lightning With Her Brain! MWUAHAHAHAHA!"
Nathyrra blinked. "Are you being serious right now?" she asked incredulously. "I honestly can't tell. You were never even remotely playful before, so this is all quite new to me…"
"I'm being perfectly serious," She Who Summons Lightning With Her Brain replied. "I call myself this because I can, in fact, summon lightning with my brain. Watch!" The druid squinted her eyes tightly closed and raised her arms to the heavens.
Nathyrra looked up, but she did not even see any clouds, let alone lightning bolts. "Are you doing it right now?" she asked suspiciously.
"Of course, I am, you idiot! Guess they didn't give out exceptional brains to match that exceptional hair of yours, did they?"
Nathyrra's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch yourself, gnome. We may have travelled together, but we weren't that close."
"I don't mean to intrude," thought a nearby mind flayer readying itself for auction, "but the strange little gnome is actually calling lightning down from the heavens. It just happens to be stopping on the surface of the earth, as lightning is prone to do."
Nathyrra looked at the illithid curiously. "How is it that you know this?"
"Well, my lady, being as sensitive to thought as we are, we illithid can sense thoughts tied to strong emotions from thousands of miles away. In this instance, I hear the thoughts of a male half-orc somewhere above us, crying out in pain from being struck repeatedly by the electric bolts. I can also hear the thoughts of a female dwarf near him, laughing her head off. It is quite amusing." Both the illithid and the gnome smiled, and Nathyrra was quite certain both faces would be haunting her dreams for weeks to come. "You see, drow, I was right!" the druid said triumphantly.
"Fine, you were right. And my name is Nathyrra, since you clearly don't remember. Do you happen to have a nickname I can call you by? She Who Something Lightning Blah Blah Blah is rather long."
"Hmm. You have a point," the gnome conceded. "I suppose… Lightning Brain will do. Yes, I think that will do nicely! Lightning Brain, la, la, la!" She began to sing to herself and twirl in a circle.
Feeling herself getting dizzy, Nathyrra grabbed the gnome's shoulder to stop her spinning. "That's enough, Lightning Brain!" she shouted, speaking fast. "Look, I know this might sound crazy—or it might not to you in the state of mind you're in—but I'm looking for a bunch of glass shards that came from a mirror that is now broken, and I have a feeling you might have one."
The druid formerly known as Tree Branch tilted her head to the side. "I might have one," she said slowly. "Yes, indeed, I might. Tell me, Nathyrra, if I did have a mirror shard—and I'm not saying I do—how much would such a trinket be worth to you, hmm?"
The drow's face fell as she realized she didn't have much to offer. Having already used her expensive ring to bribe the illithid guard back when Zorvak'Mur was less accommodating, she was out of valuable accessories, and in spite of the cheer and goodwill surrounding her there was no way she was about to part with any of her magical weapons or armor. She had fallen into the habit of letting Grovel keep any treasure she happened to find—the little goblin did enjoy shining gems—and consequently she had none of her own. All she had in her pocket was a single gold piece, and she held this out to Lightning Brain with a shaky smile. "How does one gold sound?"
"Hah," said Lightning Brain. "Now, I know I can get better than that!" She turned to face her audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, before we present our next illithid dreamboat for your perusal, we have a special surprise auction. I present to you… this!" she cried, holding the mirror shard aloft.
"A piece of glass?" asked a human woman. "Why would we want that?"
"Is it magical or something?" asked the male elf who had lost out on the mind flayer with the bow around her tentacle.
"I… don't know." Lightning Brain turned to Nathyrra and whispered, "Is it magic?"
"No," Nathyrra lied smoothly. "It's just an ordinary piece of glass."
Lightning Brain turned the shard around in her hand. "Well, why do you want it so badly then?"
"I'm a collector of reflective surfaces. I like cleaning them. Clean, clean, clean!" Nathyrra laughed, wondering what Grovel would think if he saw her now.
Lightning Brain shook her head in pity. "You're lucky you're so pretty, drow," she said and turned back to the crowd. "I'll tell you why you want this!" she cried desperately. "You want it because she wants it!" She pointed a finger at Nathyrra, who gamely waved at the audience. "Now, who'll give me twenty-five? Twenty-five gold for this shiny hunk of glass!"
Sadly, Lightning Brain's valiant attempts to create a market for the seemingly worthless artifact were in vain. No one in the audience was willing to pay twenty-five gold for it, nor twenty, nor fifteen, nor ten, not even five. Exhausted by her efforts to excite the crowd, the gnome hung her head and took a deep breath. "Fine, drow, it's yours," she said, not bothering to look at her customer as she held the prize out. "For one measly little gold piece…"
"Thank you, Lightning Brain," Nathyrra said graciously as she completed the transaction by handing over her gold. The gnome grunted and shuffled off dejectedly, all of her positive energy seemingly spent. The drow felt a little guilty watching her former companion wander off. As topsy-turvy as everything was down here, it had been nice to see a familiar face amid all the chaos, even if she was acting nothing like her normal self.
"Wait a moment!" she called out to the retreating druid. Lightning Brain slowly turned around. "This mirror shard isn't worth much on its own, but I'm searching for three more. Together they truly are magical… and quite valuable." The gnome's eyebrows shot up at the prospect of earning some gold. "If you help me find them," Nathyrra continued, "I'll split the profits with you fifty-fifty."
Lightning Brain's face instantly lit up in another smile that made Nathyrra shudder. "That sounds like the best idea I've ever heard!" the druid said happily. "The best idea in all the realms! You've got yourself a deal, partner!" She rushed up and gave Nathyrra a very un-Tree Branch-like hug. "We're going to have so much fun together!"
Nathyrra looked up at the cavernous sky and sighed. "We'll see, little gnome. We'll see…"